Josh Lanyon's Blog, page 8

Google Me This

 

Johanna Ollila


I've been trying to move all of my backlist titles onto Google Play. Technically, I've been on there for a few years, but I've only focused on listing the new releases. A lot of my backlist consists of the original files I uploaded when I first turned ot self-publishing, and so they don't always pass ebook checks on iBooks or wide distribution on Smashwords. 

But it's like everything else, it takes time. I put off reformatting because I wanted to redo some of the old book blurbs and replace a lot of my covers. Not because I don't still love a lot of my old covers--in some cases, I love the old covers more than the new--but after a while the old covers, no matter how good, become wallpaper. 

A lot of my covers are over ten years old! A refresh is not unreasonable after a decade.

Cover art is really interesting in how it subsconsciously affects the decision to further investigate a book. I've been taking note of my own browsing/buying patterns, and it's fascinating how often I'll pass right by cover after cover. Not consciously judging the cover--barely even registering the cover, in most cases. It's something the colors and layout that get me to pause long enough to read the title--which is often a make or break right there--and then to really look at the cover. And then comes another moment of (often unconscious) decision whether to read the blurb. 

And it all happens within less than a second. That's the fascinating part. How fast those unconscious decisions are made and acted on. 

For the readers looking specifically for you or your book, the title, the cover, the blurb aren't so crucial. Those readers already are weighing whether to buy, so it gets down to the particulars of plot and story and characters. But for that vast majority of readers who are just scrolling through, that first glimpse of a teeny-tiny postage stamp cover is make or break.

So it makes sense to change the scenery now and again. 

There's something magical about cover art. When it's good, it can affect how you feel about your own book. When it's bad...it becomes a factor in the decison to self-publish. ;-D 

Anyway, not all readers are enthusiastic about cover changes. And I understand that because I'm someone who has more than once bought a (print) book for the cover. But that's the transitory nature of ebooks. On the one hand the book can stay in print forever. On the other hand, many things about that book can change in a relatively short space of time.

So anyway, here are some of my recent cover changes. These particular ones are all from James at GoOnWrite. In some cases I still love the original cover more. In some cases I loved the original cover but it didn't seem to work for readers. In some cases, I never had a strong feeling about the original cover, so it's a wash.

But also I find myself moving away from the more romance-y style covers. Partly because the M/M readership is increasingly inclined toward traditional romance as opposed to the hybrid of Romance+Mystery/SpecFiction/Action-Adventure  it started out as. I want to cue them early that I'm not what they're looking for.

(In some case, like Murder in Pastel, I can't imagine ever changing that cover out. It's too unique and too perfect for the book to ever switch. But in most cases, everything is fair game eventually.)

Anyway, what are your thoughts on cover art? 

 

NEW RELEASE: 44.1644�� North

 

It turns out it took about a week longer than I'd hoped to complete the novella 44.1644�� North, so I'm guessing that week-long lag will translate into everything in the first half of the year. 

But it's done! And I'm so happy. I think it's pretty good too. There are a couple of little Easter Eggs in there for readers and true crime buffs alike. I mentioned earlier that the story was inspired by the still-unsolved disappearance of Maura Murray. Fun fact. She disappeared on the night of February ninth in 2004, so realizing the book went live last night--on the 19th anniversary of her disappearance--was startling.  

But yes, it went live last night on Smashwords and Kobo . And this morning it looks like it's available on Google and  BarnesandNoble. It will not be available on Amazon until Sunday. That's because it was a preorder with a planned release of May 10, so it's coming out three months early (and even when you ask for immediate release, it takes ZON three days to let go). On the bright side, if you preordered through Amazon, you probably got that reduced preorder price, so you wait a tiny bit longer, but you saved a buck. 

BEFORE YOU ASK: Yes, it will be available in print. Yes, it will be in audio. Kale Williams is already set to record this one. :-) 

So what's this little standalone about?

In fact, on the mean streets of the internet, he���s consideredan expert on the case. (In law-enforcement circles, he���s viewed as just anothercrackpot amateur sleuth.)

Every February, the remote New Hampshire village of Woodlarkholds a candlelight vigil for Deirdre. Family, friends, and ���supporters��� of thelong-missing girl gather at the spot where she was last seen. This is Skylar���sfirst vigil, and his fans are really looking forward to meeting him���thoughmaybe not as much as the anonymous person who emailed him coordinates to Deirdre���sgrave.

 

 EXCERPT

The cold should have sobered me up. It was fucking freezing.I was pretty sure my lungs were icing over. I could barely get my breath. Andthe lights were shooting all over the place.

I stumbled away from the pub and into the trees, and then Icouldn���t remember which of the dark cabins was supposed to be mine. They alllooked alike when they were asleep. Which started me laughing so hard, I had tograb the nearest tree to stay upright.

���Can I have this dance?��� Beneath my bare hands, the bark wasrough and textured, and I leaned my face against it and breathed in thebittersweet, earthy scent of tree skin. I stopped laughing and just breathedwith the tree. The endlessly spinning tree.

What the hell is happening?

A hand landed on my shoulder. ���May I cut in?��� someone asked.

I rolled over, but somehow that meant I was no longerleaning on the tree, no longer leaning on anything. I staggered backward, andthe hand on my shoulder became two hands, hauling me back on my feet.

���Whoa,��� Rory said.

I tossed my hair out of my face and nearly fell over again.���I know you.���

���You forgot your coat. And hat. And gloves. The good news isyou still have your pants on.���

���You wish!��� I shot back.

He gave a funny laugh. ���Uh���well. It���s not high on the list,but������

I raised my hand and made a broad cutting motion���and foundmy arms full of my jacket, scarf, hat, and gloves.

���Would you like some help getting to your cabin?���

���Which one���s mine?���

���You got me there.���

���I got myself there.���

���Hey.��� He patted my face with his gloved hand. ���Brennan?���

I ignored him, dropping my coat and things, patting mypockets for my keys. I frowned into his face. ���Did I leave my keys inside?���

���No. Brennan, hey. Hello? Skylar? Sky? Still with me?���

I opened my eyes. Shook my head.

���How much did you have to drink?���

I held my hand up and began to count it out.

���You think? Because I was watching. It didn���t look to melike you had that much. Is it possible someone spiked your beer?���

���Who? You?���

Even in the shadowy light I could see he was taken aback. ���Me?No. Not me.���

I said confidently, ���I think it was you. I think you���re upto no good, Rory Whatever Your Name Is.���

NEW RELEASE: 44.1644° North

 

It turns out it took about a week longer than I'd hoped to complete the novella 44.1644° North, so I'm guessing that week-long lag will translate into everything in the first half of the year. 

But it's done! And I'm so happy. I think it's pretty good too. There are a couple of little Easter Eggs in there for readers and true crime buffs alike. I mentioned earlier that the story was inspired by the still-unsolved disappearance of Maura Murray. Fun fact. She disappeared on the night of February ninth in 2004, so realizing the book went live last night--on the 19th anniversary of her disappearance--was startling.  

But yes, it went live last night on Smashwords and Kobo . And this morning it looks like it's available on Google and  BarnesandNoble. It will not be available on Amazon until Sunday. That's because it was a preorder with a planned release of May 10, so it's coming out three months early (and even when you ask for immediate release, it takes ZON three days to let go). On the bright side, if you preordered through Amazon, you probably got that reduced preorder price, so you wait a tiny bit longer, but you saved a buck. 

BEFORE YOU ASK: Yes, it will be available in print. Yes, it will be in audio. Kale Williams is already set to record this one. :-) 

So what's this little standalone about?

In fact, on the mean streets of the internet, he’s considered an expert on the case. (In law-enforcement circles, he’s viewed as just another crackpot amateur sleuth.)

Every February, the remote New Hampshire village of Woodlark holds a candlelight vigil for Deirdre. Family, friends, and “supporters” of the long-missing girl gather at the spot where she was last seen. This is Skylar’s first vigil, and his fans are really looking forward to meeting him—though maybe not as much as the anonymous person who emailed him coordinates to Deirdre’s grave.

 

 EXCERPT

The cold should have sobered me up. It was fucking freezing. I was pretty sure my lungs were icing over. I could barely get my breath. And the lights were shooting all over the place.

I stumbled away from the pub and into the trees, and then I couldn’t remember which of the dark cabins was supposed to be mine. They all looked alike when they were asleep. Which started me laughing so hard, I had to grab the nearest tree to stay upright.

“Can I have this dance?” Beneath my bare hands, the bark was rough and textured, and I leaned my face against it and breathed in the bittersweet, earthy scent of tree skin. I stopped laughing and just breathed with the tree. The endlessly spinning tree.

What the hell is happening?

A hand landed on my shoulder. “May I cut in?” someone asked.

I rolled over, but somehow that meant I was no longer leaning on the tree, no longer leaning on anything. I staggered backward, and the hand on my shoulder became two hands, hauling me back on my feet.

“Whoa,” Rory said.

I tossed my hair out of my face and nearly fell over again. “I know you.”

“You forgot your coat. And hat. And gloves. The good news is you still have your pants on.”

“You wish!” I shot back.

He gave a funny laugh. “Uh…well. It’s not high on the list, but…”

I raised my hand and made a broad cutting motion—and found my arms full of my jacket, scarf, hat, and gloves.

“Would you like some help getting to your cabin?”

“Which one’s mine?”

“You got me there.”

“I got myself there.”

“Hey.” He patted my face with his gloved hand. “Brennan?”

I ignored him, dropping my coat and things, patting my pockets for my keys. I frowned into his face. “Did I leave my keys inside?”

“No. Brennan, hey. Hello? Skylar? Sky? Still with me?”

I opened my eyes. Shook my head.

“How much did you have to drink?”

I held my hand up and began to count it out.

“You think? Because I was watching. It didn’t look to me like you had that much. Is it possible someone spiked your beer?”

“Who? You?”

Even in the shadowy light I could see he was taken aback. “Me?No. Not me.”

I said confidently, “I think it was you. I think you’re up to no good, Rory Whatever Your Name Is.”

Ink THIS!

So. Have you heard of Inkitt? 
Frankly, I'd never heard of it either until their very charming representative contacted me about their plans to experiment with a subscription model.  Something I know a little bit about.
As you probably know by now, I'm a creator on--and proponent of--Patreon. Which is to say, I adore my patrons. I have issues with Patreon itself, which I won't detail here. 
Actually, what Inkitt is proposing is sort of a cross between Patreon and Radish. If you're familiar with web publishing platforms and mobile apps, you know that those readers are largely not the same readers scouring Amazon for KDP deals. ;-D Which is why Vella has not been the raging success Amazon hoped for. They're starting with a completely different customer base. 
Mobile app readers are lured into paying WAY more for stories because the web platform interface is more interactive. It's a bit like a game. And the experience is as much of what the readers want as is the book itself. I make a few bucks here and there on these apps with my backlist, but authors like SC Wynne, who can deliver fresh content daily, are killing it on Radish. 
That's my experience anyway. YMMD.
Back to Inkitt.
The audience on Inkitt is largely not my audience--romance rather than mystery and romantic suspense are the big draw on these platforms--but our goal as authors is to constantly seek to build our audience. one reader at a time. 
So the reality is I'll have to bring my own audience to Inkitt to start with because A - I'm unknown in that world (now there's a humbling experience :-D :-D :-D ) and B - the Inkitt interface is pretty disastrous (as in discoverability on the site is almost impossible if the goal is sell backlist rather than write fresh content and then publish for free).
For example, if you click on my Inkitt wall to see what goodies might await you, you see this enticing prospect:


I mean, WHO COULD RESIST?! LOL.
In fact, this is a partial glimpse of what lies behind the wall--with lots more coming soon:



You can see that it includes weekly chapters of Puzzle for Two, the serialized story I'm currently writing on Patreon. 
Let's comparison shop for a moment. For a $3.00 monthly subscription on Inkitt, you get regular access to my rotating backlist PLUS weekly chapters of a new serialized story. 
For a $3.00 subscription on Patreon you get weekly access to a new serialized story:




You see what I'm saying, right?
Now that's not exactly a true picture, because on Patreon, I also throw in a lot of bonuses throughout the year AND we have a holiday zoom call. You're going to get more personal interaction on Patreon, but basically Inkitt is the better deal as far as books for your bucks.

Why am I doing this when I claim to be a proponent of Patreon? Well, as you know, I've never been a fan of putting all my eggs in one basket. But also, Patreon's service fees make the $1.00 and $3.00 tiers pretty much loss leaders. I've already capped them and I'm slowly but surely phasing them out on the platform. Inkitt takes a smaller cut and so a $3.00 tier could actually, eventually be profitable. Maybe. With enough subscribers. The goal is always to find new readers and there are readers to be found on Inkitt. 
The other goal, of course, is to earn passive income through my existing backlist. All these little revenue streams add up. As my titles are held to be rather pricy in the world of permafree, .99 cents, and Kindle Unlimited, this particular subscription is a pretty good deal for the dollars. AND you're supporting an author whose work you enjoy.
At least, I think it's a pretty good deal, but then I would. ;-D  Let me know what YOU think.

I Hear That Train A Comin'

 

What is it about the start of the new year? 

It's like you're in that Christmas Coccoon, and then you reluctantly tear (or is it eat? NOT THAT I'M PROJECTING) out of the coccoon and you're a BUTTERFLY at last!!!! Well, no. YOU'RE THREE MONTHS BEHIND! EVEN THOUGH YOU ONLY TOOK ONE MONTH OFF. 

Anyway, it's disconcerting, to say the least.

So let's start with the obvious. I didn't manage to get Lament at Loon Landing out last year, which means it falls into this year. I'm just hitting the halfway mark (I KNOW), so we're looking at end of the month--more realistically the beginning of February because I've got the fabulous Kale Williams lined up to do the audio on 44.1644° North, WHICH MEANS North will be out first. Then Lament at Loon Landing THEN straight into Corpse and Captain's Seat. 

Meanwhile, I'll still be writing Puzzle for Two for Patreon, followed by (I think) a new novel, tentatively titled Ghosted. ;-D 

Then we've got the final Holmes & Moriarity book (not including any potential, possible Christmas novella somewhere down the line) The 12.2 Per-Cent Solution. Ideally, that should come out around June because it's the wedding book. But we'll see. 

After that, we're midway through the year and there is nothing else planned beyond Hex in the City (Beknob and Broomsticks 4) which was bounced from summertime to Christmastime (which makes sense as it's set at Christmas). 

There was a bit of concern when I yanked it from Amazon, but the book is absolutely happening. In fact, here's the cover reveal:

Isn't that beautiful? Thank you to Reese Dante for the (always) gorgeous artwork.

Anyway, that's going to be MORE than enough for 2023, assuming I can even pull off all of that. I'm not committing to actual dates on anything because we know how that goes. I mean, the truth is, I'm just writing at a pace that feels comfortable and creative. I'm in the (very) fortunate position of (so far) being able to live off my backlist (supplemented by my very dear Patrons), which allows me to write the books I'm genuinely excited about to the very best of my ability without partaking in hamster wheel exercises.  I earned about 6K less on Amazon last year (that would have been Loon Landing's release week, right there) but I more than made up for it with translation rights and other stuff. So while no freelancer can claim to have stable finances, mine are reasonably reliable in the short term. 

And the way the world is going, I'm not thinking far beyond the short term. 

(Okay, perhaps a bit bleak for the New Year.) 

But you may have noticed I'm a lot cheerier and calmer than I was even at this time last year (and last year was WAY better than the previous two years). This is a change for the better. Even if it means fewer books or books getting delayed. 

Anyway, I bunch of other stuff is going on too. I'm in the process of re-covering (as in changing out the old covers) of a large portion of my backlist. I'm exploring new translation possibilities. I'm even looking at the potential of AI and other technologies*. There's a lot happening in publishing right now and I don't ever want to be someone afraid of change. 

OH. We have a new title for the fifth and final Art of Murder book. I had tentatively called it The Painted Rocks Murders, but given reader response, it really was WAY too late to break the name convention. :-D So, its new title is The Medicine Man Murders. We're looking most likely at 2024 for that one. 

And that's about it for now. 

I hope the New Year is treating you right. Get your boosters and your flu shots! 

*Let me just clarify in case anyone is confused or concerned. 

I'm not interested in replacing real live narrators with AI. At least, not for projects that I would ordinarily pay to have narrated. I like the sound of a human taking a breath or hearing a smile in a narrator's voice. I connect to human emotion. And I believe artists should be able to earn a living making art.

Would I use AI for certain foreign translations? Yes. In fact, I'm already experimenting with that. But this isn't taking a job away from a real live narrator because no way am I going to invest in audiobooks for those works. 

Nor am I thinking of having AI write my books (though holy moly the potential for comedy with that idea!!). Writing isn't just how I earn my living. It's how I define who I am and my place in the universe. I write therefore I am. Or something like that. 

I've seen some beautiful AI art, and I know there are other creative possibilities, But any art I would currently pay a human for, I will continue to pay humans for.  

At the same time, I'm open to discovering tools and short cuts that might help me be more creative and more productive. There are some amazing and even beautiful things happening in technology. The world is changing whether we like it or not, and I want to negotiate those changes rationally and, yes, ethically. 

ARE WE THERE YET?

 Okay! One week into the New Year and... Well, I'm having a little trouble ripping my way out of the holiday cocoon. How about you? 

Usually I start the year with a list of RESOLUTIONS aka GOALS. Some of which come to fruition. Some of which don't. My only real goal at the moment is to send as much of the left over cookies and candy and cupcakes, etc. as possible with the SO to his work.  

Which leads me to the first of my Resolutions:

1 - Get Healthy

I started last year with Covid. The first two months were just draw-a-line Lathrough 'em, and the rest of the year, well, I never really got up to speed. In fact, it was probably one of my most unhealthy years. Unhealthy eating, lack of exercise, just...blaaaaah. I didn't even resume my massage therapy, which right there indicates quite a level of apathy. Of indifference to my own well-being.

So there's a first goal. By this time next week, I should have contacted my therapist and made my first appointment of 2023.

2 - Write

Given the slow start to the year, last year was pretty productive. And, even better, I enjoyed everything I wrote. I felt more creative, more inspired than I have in a long time. So that was great, and if I was feeling better and more energetic, i.e., healthier, I could be more productive yet. 

I have a number of committed books, end-of-series books, but I also want to take a look at doing some fresh and fun standalone stuff. Like, I have an idea for a Christmas story for next year called The Lemon Drop Kid.

I do have a third resolution, but I think I'll keep that to myself for now. It's more about my feelings toward the world in general and my hesitation to rejoin that world, engage with that world. And I'm still working my way through. But part of working my way through it is attending conferences again and interacting more both online and in real life. I can't deny the last couple of years have been sort of disillusioning. But this is the world we have and really, most people haven't changed so much. The other stuff, the ugly stuff--grievance culture, misogyny, bias, paranoia--has always been there (and, frankly, probably always will be). 

Anyway, what about you? Do you have resolutions for this year? Goals? A game plan? HAVE YOU TAKEN DOWN YOUR CHRISTMAS TREE YET? 

Happy New Years!

 Welcome 2023! 

A Final Seasons Greetings!

 

That is A LOT of bacon!!!

Happy Holidays to One and ALL! 

First off our winners for the Fatal Shadows: The Collector's Edition ebook giveaway are as follows:

Ekaterina

Heather

Binkabunny

Catrin

Rin

brbr

CathyR

Goge

Denise

Elyxyz

Drop me a line and I'll see that you get your copy. :-) 

I hope everyone enjoyed 2022's Advent Calendar. Thank you for reading and commenting and just generally engaging in the fun. And a very special thanks to Meg Perry and Natasha Chesterbrook for their wonderful contributions. They have become part of my holiday tradition. ;-)

I can't say that 2022 was the year I hoped for, nor was this one of the best Christmases (but at least I didn't get Covid!!). The world is pretty much a mess--maybe even more than usual. But I know I tried my best last year and created some stories that have entertained and comforted readers, and really that's all I can ask for. 

The beginning of a new year is always an energizing and exciting time for me, and this season is no different. I'm looking forward to 2023. I'm full of plans and ideas. I hope you are too. I hope 2023 will bring you health, happiness, and many wonderful surprises!

 

Advent Calendar Day 25 (Holiday Snippet Sagas - 4)

 

Holiday Snippet Sagas - 4

 

AND THEY ALL LIVED HAP—OR DID THEY?!

 

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

 

Adrien English and Jake Riordan

 

“But how did you know Mrs, Andrews was the one selling secrets to the Chinese?” Detective Burke looked from me to the closed door of Jake’s hospital room.

“It didn’t make sense that Robin Pavel would be selling off his secrets to his biggest competitors. That’s beyond eccentric. And if it wasn’t Pavel, well, nothing happened in that place that Mrs. Andrews didn’t know about it.”

“But the Andrews woman couldn’t have disposed of two bodies on her own, let alone overpowered Lieut—Mr. Riordan.”

“No. She’s the brains. Boris the Elf was the brawn.”

“Boris the…” Detective Burke hastily consulted his notebook. “Boris Golo. Head of Security at Winter Wonderland theme park? Is that who we’re talking about?”

“That’s the guy.”

“This is the second victim in the mine shaft outside the site of former North Pole Village amusement park?”

“Wishing Well.”

“What’s that?”

“Not a mine shaft. A Wishing Well.”

“He fell down a Wishing Well? The EMTs said—”

“He didn’t fall. He was pushed.”

Burke repeated doubtfully, “Golo was pushed? You know that for a fact?”

“I pushed him.”

Burke threw another uneasy look at the firmly closed door behind me. He put his notebook away. “Maybe you better start at the beginning.”

“Can it wait? I’ve been through this twice already, and I’m a little tired.” To put it mildly.

“And it’s Christmas,” Burke said. “And we’ve both got places we’d rather be, but I still need to hear it from you.”

“He’d already shot at me twice. He was going back to the well to make sure Jake was dead. I managed to sneak up behind him and push him in. It’s not like I could have taken him in a fair fight.”

“No.”

“Elves like Boris don’t fight fair anyway.”

“Uh…”

I scrubbed my face with my hand. “Sorry. I’m just reallytired.” I nodded back at the door. “Can I just hear what the doctor has to say?”

Burke sighed. “Yes. How’s he doing?”

“He was conscious, so that’s good. He has a broken leg for sure. Maybe a broken shoulder? Concussion. He’s dehydrated.”

“It’s kind a miracle he made it at all.”

I said shakily, “Yeah. A Christmas miracle.”

 

 

When the doctor left, Jake reached his good arm out to me, said groggily, “No, baby. Don’t look like that. Come here.”

I went over to the bed, cautiously moved into his half-hug—luckily his injured shoulder was dislocated, not broken—put my head on chest. I was past words, almost past thought. Just…so grateful, so glad to have him back. I had been so sure there was no last-minute Christmas miracle in our future.

He mumbled, “I thought I was dreaming when I saw you leaning over that wall. Or that heaven had a really weird doorway.”

I snorted. “Heaven? Sure about that?”

He grunted, peered blearily at me. “Are you wiping your eyes on my gown?”

I nodded. Dabbed my eyes again.

“Hey. No. Shhhh. I’m okay. Everything’s okay.”

“I know.” I shook my head, cleared my throat. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ll live.”

I shook my head. “You were so lucky, Jake. We both were.”

He smiled faintly, clumsily brushed his knuckles against my cheek. “I am lucky. And this wasn’t even the luckiest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

I took his hand in mine, kissed his scraped and bruised knuckles. “No?”

He whispered huskily, “Not by a long shot.”

 Christopher Holmes and J.X. Moriarity

 

“That’s it,” J.X. said. “That is the last time you try one of those drawing room reveals. If you ever so much as even suggestit again—”

“Denouement,” I corrected which, given that my better half pronounced “the” as “thee,” I shouldn’t have. He was clearly upset. “Anyway, it worked, didn’t it? Miss Scarlet confessed.”

“Her name is Scarlatti. And yes, she confessed, aftershe shot you!”

“This little scratch,” I scoffed—just as if I hadn’t been shrieking like a wounded banshee when Miss Scarlatti fired her pearl handled derringer at me.

J.X. stuttered, “Th-that’s rich considering the way you were coming unglued last night at the very idea—”

“Well, hell yeah, I was! What normal person wouldn’t? But I—we—did solve another case. That’s…something. Not in time to save our host, which I know you’ll be glad to hear I feel pretty horrendous about, but at least she’s not getting away with it.”

 “Kit, I’m not glad to hear you feel horrendous about anything. I love you. If that lunatic had killed you…”  J.X. shook his head as though even the idea robbed him of words, robbed him of breath.

Which you have to admit is pretty gratifying.

“But she didn’t.” I put my hands on his shoulders, gazing into his eyes, which were dark with emotion. “I’m still here, still ready to irritate and exasperate you every chance I get.”

“I can’t joke about it.”

I said softly, “And the reason I’m still here is because youwere here to knock her arm up and spoil her aim.”

He opened his mouth, but I headed him off. “And to push her down in a very ungentlemanly fashion, not at all like you, and tell her some very uncomplimentary, but totally deserved, things about her life choices.”

J.X.’s lips curved into a reluctant smile. He locked his arms around my waist, pulling me close. “I do love you.”

“You must. To put up with me. If it helps, I love you too. More than anything in the world. I know I don’t say it enough. Let alone show it enough...”

Our mouths brushed in a kiss light as snowflakes—then locked on.

When we could speak again, I said, “I promise that next Christmas will be everything you want it to be. No murders—old or new—no trips to snowbound pirate villages, no accepting invitations from eccentric millionaires, just…hearth and home and family and friends.”

He gave a little laugh, murmured, “I doubt that, but I appreciate the sentiment,” and kissed me once more.

 

 

 

 

Taylor MacAllister and William Brandt

As the plane doors closed behind David Ruiz, Taylor muttered, “I still think we should’ve have let Escobar keep him.”

Will snorted. “You say that now, but you’d have felt bad about it later.”

“Would I though?”

“Maybe not.” Will thumped Taylor’s shoulder lightly. “Anyway, mission accomplished.”

“Mission accomplished.” Taylor sounded weary. Well, they were both tired. Tired, bruised and banged up, and had had their worst suspicions about their fellow man confirmed.

On the bright side, their bank account had never been healthier.

Will said, “What do you want to do? Grab the next flight home or head back tomorrow?”

Taylor glanced at him. Their gazes lingered for a moment. Taylor smiled faintly. “What do you want?”

“We should probably head home.”

Taylor sighed. Nodded. “Yeah. Probably.”

Will studied him, said, “But what I’d like is a couple of days on a sandy beach with a cold beer and my favorite person in the world—and a couple of nights where no one bursts through our hotel room door.”

“That does sound pretty good.”

“It’s not like we can’t afford it,” Will said.

“True.”

“I mean, yes, it is Christmas Eve.”

“It is,” Taylor agreed. “But the person I’d be rushing home to spend Christmas with is right here and right now.”

Funny how nothing made Will happier than making Taylor happy. And he had a pretty good idea of how to do that.

“What do you say we book ourselves a couple of nights in that hotel on the beach? The office is closed for the week anyway.”

Taylor looked thoughtful, almost skeptical. “You sure you’re not going to regret this?”

Will threw his arm around Taylor’s shoulders, gave him a quick, hard hug. “Hey. I have some regrets in my life, but one thing I never have and never will regret, is spending time with you.”

“Hm.”

“So? What do you say? It’ll be like a little mini second honeymoon.”

Taylor offered that slow, sweet grin that never failed to pierce Will’s heart.

Will said softly, “Merry Christmas, MacAllister.”

Taylor settled more comfortably into Will’s arm. As they watched the plane carrying David Ruiz home, he said contentedly, “Merry Christmas, Brandt.”

 

 

 

 

 

 Elliot Mills and Tucker Lance

 

“Confederate dollars.” Tucker shook his head in disgust.

They were playing chess in front of the fire in the lobby of the all but deserted Cathedral House Inn. It turned out the inn was not a huge holiday destination—which, after the adventures of the past week, suited Elliot and Tucker just fine.

“Well, they’re not entirely worthless,” Elliot pointed out. “Collectors will pay for them. A twenty-dollar bill is currently worth just under a hundred bucks, and that chest was full of a hell of a lot of twenty-dollar bills.”

“Even so.”

“Even so,” agreed Elliot.

“On the bright side.” Tucker paused to sip his mulled wine, and Elliot snorted at his slight shudder. Tucker was not much for mulled wine, but it was Christmas Eve and they were belatedly doing their best to have the vacation they had originally planned.

“On the bright side, we caught a serial killer.”

Tucker said grimly, “I don’t know if we can really take credit for that. It’s not like the solid citizens of this county didn’t suspect what was happening in their own backyard. They were willing to sacrifice the occasional tourist to keep the feds from getting involved in their little treasure hunt.”

“You can’t blame everybody for the actions of a few.”

Tucker said grimly, “When good men do nothing…”

Ellery shrugged. No denying that one, but so much of modern life was lived online, people were surprisingly blind to what was happening in their own backyard.

A cell phone buzzed.

“Is that you or me?” Tucker was already checking his phone.

“Me,” Elliot said, and then, phone to his ear, “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”

Tucker studied him as Elliot listened to Roland’s faraway voice. His brows drew together when Elliot said stammered, “I-I mean, if that’s what you…I’m a little…very happy for you both. Of course. Congratulations! Yeah, yeah. Merry Christmas to you both.”

When he put his cell phone down, he stared at Tucker.

“Did your father actually go and marry Detective Upson?”

Elliot nodded. “Her name’s Julia.”

“Well, I figured that was coming.”

Elliot stared. “You did?”

Tucker shrugged. “They’ve been pretty much inseparable these last months.”

Were they? He thought over the last year and reluctantly admitted to himself that, yeah, Upson was slowly becoming a regular fixture at his father’s place. And, as unlikely as it was, Upson—er, Julia—did seem to make Roland happy. He seemed calmer and more contented since she’d entered his life.

“I didn’t think my dad would actually ever remarry.”

“You’ve said plenty of times, he wasn’t really cut out for bachelor life.”

“I guess so.”

“And Upson…must be a glutton for a punishment.”

Elliot scowled. Tucker’s smile was sour. “I mean, I don’t get it, but she does seem crazy about your old man.”

Elliot nodded. “I just want him to be happy.”

“Of course you do,” Tucker said. “And I just want you to be happy. So why don’t we go upstairs and I’ll make you very happy.”

Elliot grinned. “You just don’t like losing at chess.”

“No, I don’t. And I hate mulled wine.” Tucker leaned over the board, knocking several of the pieces over. “But I’ll tell you what I dolike.” He whispered a few details, eyes fastened on the way Elliot’s throat moved, the way his cheeks warmed, the way his eyelashes flickered.

Elliot moaned softly, revealingly.

“Upstairs. Now,” Tucker was gruff, not to be argued with, and Ellery was already on his feet and moving toward the staircase on legs that were just a little wobbly. It felt like a long time, too long since Tucker had given him the kind of attention he so craved, so needed.

They left the chess board and fallen players in the shadow of the flickering firelight.

 

Ellery Page and Jack Carson

“What are you smiling at?” Jack climbed into bed, navigating the black puddle of a gently snoring Watson, and landing beside Ellery in the nest of down comforters and feather pillows.

“I was just thinking that as much as I enjoy reading about guys solving mysteries and having adventures, it’s kind of nice curling up in a soft, warm bed with your favorite dog and your favorite—”

“Cop?” Jack teased.

Elliot grinned. “Definitely Watson’s favorite cop.”

“Ha. Anyway, it’s not like you don’t have your own share of adventures and mysteries.”

“True.” Jack held his arm out and Ellery shifted over. “This is the part I like best though.”

“Me too.”

Ellery leaned his head back, studying Jack with affection. “Merry Christmas, Jack.”

Jack said softly, “Merry Christmas, Ellery.”

Watson opened one eye, sighed, and went back to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advent Calendar Day 24

 Ten Things I Learned from Watching Hallmark Christmas Movies

1 - Christmas tree lots are the perfect place to have deep, meaningful conversations with potential romantic interests. Also, Douglas Firs are everyone's favorite tree.

2 - Irreplaceable family recipes are lost on a regular basis but will be found when they are needed most. Same with treasured antique ornaments. 

3 - There is no such thing as spending too much money on Christmas decorations. One Christmas tree per household is the bare minimum.

4 - Be VERY careful about wishful thinking in public OR if you are anywhere near an angel tree-topper. Even snow globes can be dangerous if you're feeling pensive.

5 - You want kids. You just don't know it yet. 

6 - You're going to get the promotion/tenure/chance-in-a-lifetime. YAY!!! However, you'll realize you don't need it anymore.

7 - Whatever ails you, concussion will set you right.

8 - Whoever you're currently engaged to is probably not the person you really love.

9 - You were not meant for big city living. No one is.

10 - Small children, old people, and animals have forgotten more about love and making relationships work than you'll ever know.